


An Impromptu Errand

by Veeebles



Category: Pride and Prejudice and Zombies (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 07:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14159898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veeebles/pseuds/Veeebles
Summary: Elizabeth remembered seeing him as such a long time ago at Netherfield.The faraway clang of a blade upon stone had roused her from her place beside Jane, looking out the window to find him standing down in the moonlight gardens, his blade glinting silver as he moved from positions and stances.Just like that night, the rain fell lightly, glinting like thousands of jewels as they passed through the silvery light of the moon. The wind moved the droplets here and there and Elizabeth was entranced as she watched his form move through them.She had longed to be closer, to see clearer, but when his head turned to the house she had fled, nerves jumping right down to the tips of her fingers at the prospect of having been caught by him.





	An Impromptu Errand

Elizabeth remembered seeing him as such a long time ago at Netherfield.

The faraway clang of a blade upon stone had roused her from her place beside Jane, looking out the window to find him standing down in the moonlight gardens, his blade glinting silver as he moved from positions and stances.

Just like that night, the rain fell lightly, glinting like thousands of jewels as they passed through the silvery light of the moon. The wind moved the droplets here and there and Elizabeth was entranced as she watched his form move through them.

At Netherfield, she had felt her heart flutter and her breathing deepen as she watched him train. She told herself it was mere appreciation of his technique and dedication to training. Yet her eyes had lingered on the shadow of his body beneath the white shirt, the grunts and gasps he made as he lunged and how powerful his arms were when he spun fast and beheaded the statue.

She had longed to be closer, to see clearer, but when his head turned to the house she had fled, nerves jumping right down to the tips of her fingers at the prospect of having been caught by him.

Finding herself in a similar scenario had her stomach give an apprehensive flutter. So much had passed between them since then. His doomed proposal, his consequent letter that had revelled so much for Elizabeth. The siege of London, the fall on Hingman bridge. She shuddered to remember how still he had lay on the ground then; his face peaceful as if death had taken him already. The despair she had felt had shook her to her core, her body raked with sobs as she clung to his lifeless form, kissed his unmoving lips and sobbed against his chest at the prospect of living the rest of her life with his absence. The moment he had walked into the sunlight parlour of Lady Catherine’s house just hours earlier that day had been the only moment of relief.  

She remembered his gentle smile as his eyes sought her out among her sisters; that tiny twitch at he corners of his mouth, the softening of his eyes which seemed lighter in the golden light that came through the windows. The announcement of Jane and Bingley’s engagement had swept them both away, giving them not a moment together and before she knew it the day had grown old and the weather had surged.

The rain had started just as they sat down to eat and had hammered upon the windows of Rosing’s all through the evening, until Lady Catherine had declared it much too dangerous for them to journey home in it.

“The Zombies rise easy in the damp ground, Rosings is the safest place for you now, you shall all be seen to rooms immediately.”

And with that, Elizabeth had found herself whisked off into a grand room, nicer than any she had ever been in and she was to call it home for the night. She said her good evenings to her family and the Lady Catherine and shut her door, relaxing in her much longed-for solitude.

She had tossed and turned in the huge bed, sleep evading her as thoughts of Darcy and how his face looked above her as he pinned her down against the table during their fight months prior plagued her mind. His eyes had been so brown, yet with flecks of amber right at the pupil, glinting like gold in the soft sunlight. He had been a worthy adversary, besting her at all moments and blocking almost her every move. Dare she say it she had somehow enjoyed it. But now, thinking of why they had fought, and the consequences of her actions, she was ashamed and found herself longing to take that time again and change how she had acted.

 Sighing, Elizabeth rose from her bed, pacing around the large room, eventually coming to a stop towards the glass window that looked out onto the extensive gardens, which was where she found herself now.

Her eyes followed his white and black form. Her chest tightened with an unfamiliar feeling, a longing setting into her very bones that spoke of hours without seeing him, seeming like days.

_“…What a proud fool I was…I can never hope to win your love in this life…When did I fall so deeply under your spell?...”_

Words from his letter repeated themselves in her mind and she grew restless.  

The night was deep, not even the servants would be awakened at this hour.

Her mind told her how improper this was, questioning why she should be turning to quietly collect her heavy shawl from the foot of her bed, wrapping it around her shoulders and slipping into her bed slippers.

She opened the door slowly, turning the old handle carefully until she was on the other side, closed behind her with not a sound. She glanced around the dark corridors and was relieved to find no one. Her training had afforded her with lightness of step and a way of moving where she pleased without a sound, and the heightened sense to discover if there were any other souls watching her.

She descended the grand staircase quickly, the wispy, white fabric of her chemise floating around her ankles with her movements. She hurried through to the drawing room and to the large French door that led out into the gardens She paused there, hand grasping the cold, brass handle, heart beating and she searched for him in the dark beyond the water-stained glass.

The glint of his sword made her smile then, she could not explain why.

She pulled the door open quietly and breathed in the fresh, cold air of the night. The ground was wet beneath her feet and the rain dropping gently round her made her shiver. Her stomach coiled in anticipation for she knew not what she was doing nor what the outcome of such a detour as this would be. She was behaving most improper yet something was compelling her feet to move forwards, carrying her through the gardens.

She found comfort in being shrouded in the shadows of the large trimmed bushes and trees on either side of her.

She followed the sound of his breathing, the glint of his blade and the slice as it cut through the shrubbery which was his latest victim.

At last, she was near him, he had not yet noticed her and she watched in avid fascination as he lunched forwards, his back to her, his shirt damp from the rain stretched over his skin and his muscles rolled beneath. She bit her lip and breathed a small sigh.

He spun around, making her jump in fright as she peered down at the point of his katana which was thrust into her face.

“M-Miss Bennet!” he straightened then, bowing and hurriedly sheathing his sword, eyes wide in shock as she looked down at her through the wet hair that fell across his forehead, “I could have killed you!”

She smiled at that, her momentary shock passing, “I think not, sir, I believe I had the element of surprise.”

He seemed to remember himself then, looking down at her half-dressed apparel and cleared his throat, straightening and looking away, a faint blush highlighting his cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be out here at this hour and in such little dress, Miss Bennet.”

She tried not to smile at his husky voice, watching his fists clench at his sides.

“I had to see you.”

His gaze returned to her at that, those dark eyes searching her face.

She could feel the rain slowly soaking her, the small autumnal breeze toyed with the hem of her chemise and she pulled her shawl closer around her.

“Why?”

Had his voice always held that rasp? She found her stomach fluttering and some small ache pool between her legs that made her shiver.

“Your letter…”

He did not seem as if he could respond, his eyes seemed to fight to move from her face to her neck, she watched his jaw clench and unclench and she tilted her head to see him better, the shadows shrouding half his face.

“I am sorry, I was wrong to judge you as I did.”

He stared at her for a time, his breath misting in the air as he breathed harder

“Then, I am sorry, for being such a proud fool.”

She smiled at that.

“And, that day - on the bridge…”

Her voice faltered at he memory of his lips soft but cold beneath her own. Her eyes dropped to them and she found herself licking her own.

“Miss Bennet-” his voice was softer and he took an almost involuntary step towards her then seemed to remember himself. He was fighting to hold his guard, she could see, but she had not come here for that.

“Mr Darcy…” her voice was but a whisper, her eyes moved from where she could make out the rolls of his muscles beneath his shirt, the light smattering of dark hair that appeared at the V of his neckline, up his neck where she could see his pulse hammering beneath, to a pair of lips that were parted and pink, wet from the rain. Her eyes found his and she hadn’t realised how close she was standing to him until now, she could count each of his eyelashes.

His eyes roved her face, darker than she had ever seen, full of something she did not know but shivered under his scrutiny. She moved her shoulders just so, allowing her shawl to fall down her arms and that ache deepened as his eyes found her breast, heaving under his intense gaze, the rain slowly dampening her chemise until he could almost see through.

“Miss Bennett…”

His voice was strained, his breath was warm upon her lips, she could feel the heat of his body. Her fingers twitched where they were clasped in front of her, holding onto her shawl and she felt his skin jump as she tentively touched him through his shirt, revelling at his soft skin over hard muscle.

Her palm lay flat against his chest and her eyes moved to meet his. She was sure he could hear her heart. There was a tentive look in his dark depths, she could see him battle with his sense of propriety and his want of her. She slowly curled her fingers into a fist, dragging her nails gently across his skin that peeked through his shirt.

With a soft growl, he kissed her. His lips were firm and hungry upon her. She tangled her fingers into his damp hair and sighed into his mouth as he kissed her with more hunger then she had known. His large, warm, strong hands held her back, pressing her body against his solid form.

How could she have thought to deprive herself of this? Darcy kissed her like he was a dying man and she were the last drop of water in the world. His kiss was full of passion and need and the ache was burning inside her now, her body thrumming with the need for something unfamiliar but she knew he was the only relief she could find.

A hand moved down to her thigh, warm and heating her cold skin. She stumbled and found herself pressed against a tree, his hands between her skin and the bark. He pulled her legs up and around his waist and she gasped into his mouth to feel all of him against her. He moaned against her lips and it vibrated all through her body, sending her head reeling.

She could feel something hard press against her thigh and she wanted to touch it, feel how he would feel in her palm, but his kiss was all she could focus on, how he growled and his teeth nipped at her bottom lip when she dragged her fingers across the nap of his neck.

His lips moved to her jaw and down her neck, kissing and biting any morsel of flesh he could find. She was sighing and moaning, not caring who heard her, only too interested in how he made her feel.

A large hand cupped her breast through her now sodden gown and she moaned at the feeling, head thrown back and leaning into the touch, craving more.

“Elizabeth-”

She whimpered at the strain in his voice, how her name tasted upon his tongue for the first time, how he groaned like he was in genuine pain as he ceased their ministrations, pulling himself away from her like he had been forced.

He backed away until his body collided with an opposing tree, his hands gripping onto the trunk behind him as he stood panting, his eyes roving all over her body. Her nipples had risen to his touch, aching for more and he could not seem to look away from her heaving breast.

“I-I apologize…Madam…I got quite...carried away.”

He panted the words out, eyes still travelling over her, eventually settling upon her own heated haze.

“I-I do hope you don’t regret it, sir” she managed, her breath a cloud of white in the night’s cool air.

“Never.”

He said it with such conviction, his eyes solid on her’s, it made her smile.

She drew her shawl back about her, turning from him to right her dress, hearing him adjusting his clothes also. She turned to him and he stepped closer, taking one hand in both of his own.

“You should go now, back to your chamber before the sun rises and you are missed.”

He pulled her to him and captured her lips once more, sighing softly against her, hands holding her close, fingers tenderly caressing her. He pulled way to press his forehead against her, speaking softly into the small space between them.

“Until the morning, Miss Bennett.”

She smiled, feeling lighter than she had in months.

“Until the morning, Mr Darcy.”

She had run back to the house as swiftly as she had come, feeling his eyes upon her all the while. When she returned to her chamber, closing the door behind her and going to the window, he was gone, the grounds beginning to lighten with the morning sun left no trace of their ever being there.

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

 

The next day, Darcy was nowhere to be found.

A small question as to his whereabouts, posed as casually as she could manage was posed to Mr Collins who could tell her only that he was dealing with some business nearby.

With the rain letting up during the night, Elizabeth’s family had journeyed home. She had opted to stay behind a while to spend some time with Charlotte before returning to her home. She would be lying if being in close proximity to Darcy for a while longer had been the highest contributing factor in her decision to delay.

Elizabeth lay awake in her bed, just as she had the night before, thoughts plagued her mind of Darcy, the same as they had since first they met, but tonight for a very different reason.

The ache between her legs was growing almost unbearably. Every time she closed her eyes she was bombarded with flash-backs of his kiss, his voice, his hands upon her. He plagued her body and soul until sleep was impossible and she found herself wandering aimlessly around her cousin’s small cottage.

She lingered at the window looking out to the garden that eventually met the gates of Lady Catherine’s estate. Shadows shifted here and there, clouds passed in front of the moon and Elizabeth felt as if she might be some mythical creature, a wolf come alive at the full moon to howl and run wild for a relief to her hunger.

She could not explain how, but she knew he was out there.

Her heart kept up its erratic beating and she felt that pull again, like his very soul was tied to hers and demanded they be brought together. Her skin itched with the need for him to touch her, her blood sang like a siren’s call, desperate for him.

She quietly pulled open the cottage door and stepped out into the cold air, pulling her shawl about her once more and hurried down the garden. She felt relaxed in the shelter of a small gathering of trees and her eyes roved the dark, hunting for him.

She sensed, rather than heard his approach and she could not help the grin that split across her face when she felt a warm, solid chest press against her back.

“I knew you would come.”

His breath ghosted over the skin of her ear and down her neck and she bit her lip against the whimper that threatened to escape her. He felt his nose in her hair, breathing in the smell of her, his hands coming around her waist, holding her close.

“Tut, tut, Miss Bennett, I could have been all manner of horrible demons come to do you harm.”

She turned, looking up into those wonderfully dark eyes, “I knew it was you.”

He kissed her then, gently this time, like he was reminding himself how her lips felt, memorising their shape and taste. His hands cradled her head gently, stepping close so her body was against his, lending his heat to her. The kiss deepened and soon became more frantic, full of want, of unsatisfied desires, thirsts that needed quenching.

His tongue licked along her bottom lip and slipped into her mouth at her admittance and she felt like her knees would give out as he tasted her. The kiss was heady, he tasted like honey and she wanted more.

“Fitzwilliam…”

He groaned softly in the back of his throat and deep in his chest at the sound of his name upon her lips, breathed out in a gentle sigh of desire as he kissed her soundly.

“I thought you would not come back to me,” he rasped against her skin, fingers pushing the shawl from her shoulders and unlacing the front of her chemise, pulling the neckline down to expose her breasts, her skin glowing like ivory in the low light.

She groaned as he kissed her there, mouth hot against her chilled skin, licking and suckling at her nipples, biting the swell of a breast and sealing it with a kiss.

“I thought you a dream, that you had returned home still hating me and condemned to live my life without you.”

“Never,” she gasped out, fingers tangled in his thick locks, pulling him closer, nails scraping his scalp.

He moved lower, kissing her through her chemise until he knelt before her.

He pressed his mouth between her legs and Elizabeth bit her lip to contain the startled noise that threatened to escape her and he breathed her in through the fabric.

He pulled away to look up at her and all she could do was watch in amazement as he lifted the hem of her skirt, bunching it up into her hands and smirking as he disappeared from view.

She trembled and her knees buckled as his tongue flicked out to taste her. That ache was unbearable but his tongue tasting her again and again relived her, yet she wanted more. Her nipples, exposed to the air tightened and she longed for his hands on her, wanting everything and anything he would offer.

His tongue licked at her with enthusiasm, his fingers digging into her thighs as he held her upright and against him. He hooked a leg over his shoulder, affording himself more room to explore and Elizabeth could no longer keep silent.

She breathed out a sigh, moaning and gasping, feeling something unfamiliar building inside her like a wave. It came crashing down upon her and he continued to taste her as she shuddered against his mouth, tangling his hair around her fingers, moaning at this feeling her had given her, feeling it all down to the ends of her nerves.

He rose as she calmed, sweeping a hand behind her trembling legs and lifted her into his arms. He carried her further into the shelter of the trees, laying her out on the soft grass, adjusting her shawl and night gown around her to keep her warm. He cradled her in his arms, against her chest and she breathed in the smell of him, revelled in his strong hold, how warm her was, the sound of his heart beating in his chest, pace heightened from their activities.

The night was quiet; the air cold, the moon appearing and disappearing behind clouds as the rolled past. She watched a light breeze play with the strands of hair that fell across his forehead as he looked down upon her. His expression was gentle, that soft smile upon his lips. He caressed her cheek gently with calloused fingers, running through her hair, feeling it’s softness as t spilled upon the ground around her.

“That night you came to me, I thought you an apparition, a hallucination of my grieving heart.” His voice was a gentle rasp, she felt she could listen to him for years, “After our…quarrel…last we were here together, you would never wish to see me again. Even after Hingman bridge, I had thought your kiss and your words had been a figment of my imagination; a moment of sheer imagined bliss in my hour of dying. With every swing of my blade I felt my desperation sink deeper and I resolved to seek solace in war and meet whatever fate I met there.”

He chuckled when Elizabeth swatted his chest, her brow creased in anger at his words, appalled that he should be so careless of his life. He chuckled again, softly, caressing her forehead to release her frown. That gentle look returned to his eyes as he beheld her. She felt so beautiful under his gaze, his eyes beholding her like she were the most precious thing in all the world.

“Then I saw you last night; standing there in your white chemise and blue shawl, you seemed to glow in the moonlight, your hair tumbled around your shoulders, dancing in the wind, taunting me to tangle my fingers in and pull you to me. I was sure I must be dreaming. Then you touched me, I felt I surely would burst, I felt no chill in that rain.”

“I thought I must look a sight, I thought I would scandalize you for my unladylike behaviour.”

He hummed lowly and nuzzled into her neck, kissing her soft skin, teeth dragging across after making her sigh and tilt back, allowing him more room.

“If I did not love you before, I loved you then,” he breathed against her skin, his hands holding her to him and she felt him rise against her thigh with every breathy sigh she made as a result of his ministrations. She pulled him to lie on top of her.

“My Siren, beckoning me to her and like a lost sailor I went willingly. You could have led me to the teeth of hell and I would have gone without complaint.”

She moved her legs to cradle him, anchoring her feet until she pulled his hardness against her heat, “here, Darcy, is the only place I would bid you go.”

His chest rumbled with his growl and he kissed her feverently, arms coming around her, pulling her flush against him, groaning into her mouth when she rolled against him, giving both relief and a duller ache to his desire.

“I want you more than anything I have ever known,” he admitted against her lips, kissing her firmly, hands gripping her bare thighs, holding her against him.

“Make me yours, Darcy, please, I cannot wait any longer, I need you.”

“Elizabeth,” he breathed, hands roving up the white of her gown to expose her naked beneath him. Her hands pushed away his shirt, leaving his skin bare to the air but he felt no chill with this inferno in his very soul, “call me by my name.”

“F-Fitzwilliam.”

He kissed her again, his hands fumbling to the laces of his breeches, breathing a sigh of relief when he was freed of his confines, shivering as the night air touched his sensitive flesh. Her soft hand gripped him gently and he moaned into her mouth at her touch, her fingers exploring the length of him curiously.

“Elizabeth…”

Her lips came to his neck, sending shivers down to the base of his spine as her teeth softly scraped against his pulse.

“Please, Fitzwilliam,” his name was breathed against his ear.

He gripped himself in hand and guided his head to her entrance, gently pressing against soft, hot, wet flesh. He watched her tilt her head back, breasts heaving as she breathed a sigh, hips bucking up to his touch, craving more. She was the most beautiful thing he had ever beheld.

He pressed in to her and thought he might faint with how good it felt. She whimpered, her hands coming around his back, legs wrapping around his waist as he slowly pressed in, stopping every so often at her beckoning until his hips pressed against the soft plush of her bottom. There he paused, breathing hard into the crook of her neck at her around him, so hot and tight, his body already buzzing with the need of release, he did not think he could last long.

“F-feels good,” he heard her gasp. Her legs twitched around him, her fingers pressing into his flesh., her breathing erratic. He looked down at her and her eyes met his, full of so much feeling it made his head spin.

He pulled out slowly and watched a little crease appear upon her brow, her mouth fall open and her cheeks flushed. He moved back in just as carefully, setting up a steady rhythm until her moans became louder, her breathing more erratic and she reached her peak once again He shuddered as she clung to him, feeling her tighten around him as he moved in her, head reeling from the breathy moans she made. He followed her into ecstasy, spilling his seed inside her.

He held her close after, nestled in his arms under the moonlight. She smiled contently, his fingers stoking her chocolate hair. He gently turned her head to look into her eyes, revelling at the adoration he saw there.

“It seems comical that I still feel the need to ask this, even more so that I am yet filled with anguish and longing at what might be your response.”

She smiled up at him, tilting her face up to see her clearly. His fingers stroked at her jaw, his expression soft. She looked at him expectantly, he regarded her, her subtle body perfectly fitted against his. He saw his entre wold when looking at her and could not imagine being anywhere else but here with her.

“You are the love of my life, Elizabeth Bennett. Will you do me the great, great honour of taking me as your husband?”

“Yes,” she laughed breathlessly, her smile beginning to ache on her cheeks, “yes, I will.”


End file.
